


Flowers Amongst Thorns

by ImmaGlitch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry, Abused Harry Potter, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Abusive Vernon Dursley, Autistic Severus Snape, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Cynophobic Harry Potter, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Good Malfoy Family (Harry Potter), Good Severus Snape, Hurt Harry Potter, Hurt/Comfort, Mentor Minerva McGonagall, Mentor Severus Snape, Misguided Albus Dumbledore, POV Harry Potter, POV Minerva McGonagall, POV Multiple, POV Severus Snape, Physical Abuse, Protective Severus Snape, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slytherin Harry Potter, Smart Harry Potter, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:55:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24186241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmaGlitch/pseuds/ImmaGlitch
Summary: Heather is a beautiful, bright and clever girl, full of potential. She has never had a chance to fulfill that potential until a letter addressed to her cupboard arrives.Suddenly, she has all she ever wanted and more.But, what will happen when she's sorted into Slytherin?How will the teachers and staff react to having to parent the girl?And what happens when she catches a certain Malfoy's eye?Will her past keep her from living her life?Takes place in 1st year.
Relationships: Aurora Sinistra & Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter & Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter & Pomona Sprout, Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall & Harry Potter
Comments: 72
Kudos: 463





	1. Dudley's Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've ever written! Hope you enjoy reading! 😊

Heather woke to Aunt Petunia's shrill voice, screeching at her to get up. Heather groaned before pulling herself out of bed, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and pulling on a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks. She exited her dark cupboard, entered the kitchen and started on breakfast. There were piles of presents stacked on the table and she knew what it meant. Dudley's birthday, and for her, a day of looking through album after album of cats that Mrs. Figg had once owned.

She focused on keeping the bacon from going past crispness and into burnt territory, where she would be very much in danger of punishment. She remembered, with a shudder, times when she was younger, when she had been new to cooking and had burnt the bacon or the toast, and she remembered the gnawing hunger she had felt, locked in her cupboard for the days afterwards. She turned the bacon over and watched as the bacon grease bubbled on the pan. She yawned behind her hand as Uncle Vernon walked into the room. He looked at her and took in her matted, messy hair and huffed.

"Petunia! The girl is going to get her filthy hair in the food!" He shouted. Heather quickly finished the bacon as her Aunt Petunia's heels clicked closer, before she herself appeared in the doorway, brush in hand. She clicked off the stove just as her Aunt snapped, "Come, girl!". Heather sat down and braced herself. Aunt Petunia pulled the brush painfully through her hair, before using her fingers to yank dark strands this way and that until her hair was pleated down her back in a neat braid. "You better be grateful for this, you little wench! You're lucky I don't just shave it all off!", Petunia snarled, "Now get back to the breakfast!". The braid was tight and uncomfortable but Heather knew better than to complain. She started on the eggs. Aunt Petunia disappeared, reappearing again, minutes later, with Dudley at her side. She placed the plates of egg and bacon on the table. Dudley started going on about the number of presents. Heather ate quickly, expecting a tantrum. Aunt Petunia promised him even more presents and Heather felt a touch of jealousy. A mountain of presents and he easily got more, while every birthday she got a pair of Vernon's worn old socks that stank of sweat, and if she dared to ask for more, she would receive a swat and a long lecture about how generous they were and how she ought to be grateful.

The phone rang and Aunt Petunia rushed to answer it. Heather started on dishes and watched out of the corner of her eye as Petunia was on the phone, her lips pursed, as they tended to be when she was upset. Heather knew this wasn't a good sign, it could mean doom for her or simply displeasure with her current conversation and either way, Heather would suffer. Her Aunt made eye contact and Heather quickly diverted her attention to the dishes. She heard the clunk as her Aunt hung up the phone. "Bad news, Vernon," she said, "Mrs Figg's broke her leg. She can't take her.".  
Dudley started to throw a tantrum, and Heather listened intently as Mr and Mrs Dursley debated where she would go. It was decided, as she couldn't be trusted alone with the house or car, she would have to come along.


	2. A Day At The Zoo

Heather let her mind wander as Mr Dursley drove them to the zoo. She thought about all the things she might see there and let herself hope that she would get to enjoy the experience, if only a little. She wondered what sort of animals she might see, if they would truly be as beautiful as pictures she'd seen in books. Uncle Vernon was complaining, as usual, something about motorbikes. She had a vague image of a flying motorbike in her mind and assumed that it had been one of her dreams.

Heather rarely had a night without dreams, her imagination was a vivid one, giving her wild and amazingly realistic dreams, unfortunately, this also applied to her nightmares, of which she had many, some of being humiliated at school or waking up to find that the Dursleys had abandoned her or a strange recurring one with lots of green light and terror-filled screams. After such nightmares there was no comfort, only the darkness of her cupboard and the sound of her own rapid breathing, which more often than not, made her panic even more. That was normal.

She remembered once when she was very little she had slipped out of her cupboard and woke her Aunt after a nightmare, the beating she'd received the next morning became fuel for future nightmares. Heather was pulled out of her thoughts as the car stopped.

She trailed along behind the Dursleys, they stopped at the entrance and Heather watched with envy as the two boys were given large chocolate cones. The lady at the cart smiled at her and asked what she'd like before the Dursleys were able to hurry her away. Petunia realized how this could make her look and bought her a cheap lemon ice lolly, giving her a sharp look as she did.

She looked the smiling woman in the eye and quietly said, "thanks.", before rushing to catch up with the Dursleys. She licked the lolly and hummed in contentment as they went from one exhibit to the next. She was enjoying this beautiful summer day, however she still kept her guard up and stayed a distance away from Dudley and Piers. She'd been beaten up by those boys enough to know they could turn on her at any moment. They ate in the zoo restaurant and Heather was pleasantly surprised to get Dudley's unwanted Knickerbocker glory.

After lunch, they headed to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, a welcome respite from the hot, glaring sun. Heather watched in fascination as snakes slithered and shifted behind glass, smudged with fingerprints. Dudley was bothering a snake in one of the largest tanks, tapping the glass and shouting at it. Heather edged closer to get a look at the snake. It was a boa constrictor, fast asleep. Dudley soon abandoned the snake to find one more lively and Heather moved to the front of the tank, peering at the snake, and admiring the intricate patterns in it's scales.

"You're beautiful." She whispered, in awe. She started when the snake hissed, "thanksss… not so bad yourself.", back. "Er, you can understand me?" She questioned, wondering if she had gone quite mad. "Yesss. I'm jussst as ssurprisssed as you.", The snake hissed in reply. There was a moment of awkward silence, where Heather simply stared at the deadly snake.

She cleared her throat, "So, you've been here all your life?" She asked, glancing at the sign. The snake nodded sadly. "Same here. This is the first time they've let me out" Heather said hoping this would comfort the snake. The snake nodded once again. What she'd said was true of course, the Dursleys had never allowed her to go on school trips and whenever the family went out, she was left behind. "Dudley! Mr Dursley! Come and look at this snake! You won't believe what it's doing!" Piers suddenly shouted, causing Heather to jump.

Dudley came running, punching Heather in the stomach as he passed. Heather fell to the concrete floor, clutching her mid-section and silently cursing the fat boy. She looked up when she heard the boys' shriek. The glass from the boa's tank had vanished. The massive snake was soon on the floor, sending the people throughout the reptile house into a panic. The snake hissed it's thanks as it slithered past her. Heather looked up to find the glass back where it had been. Panic welled up inside her. She was going to be blamed. She knew it. If the glass was broken perhaps she could escape punishment, there would be some answer other than her 'freakishness', but there it was, infuriatingly intact. The glass was too thick for her to break on her own, well maybe... her freakishness had gotten her into this mess, perhaps she could use it to get her out of it. 'Please break, please break, please!' she desperately begged the glass in her head, feeling foolish. Heather was shocked when it did, large shards falling to the ground, with a crash.

'Did I really do that?' she wondered, numbly. Uncle Vernon was helping Dudley up and glanced her way. She quickly schooled her features into one of fear and shock. "Oh God, that was so scary! I swear that snake was trying to kill me" she squeaked. The reptile house keeper was in shock, "I could swear the glass was thick enough to keep that snake in! I can't believe it! Should've had it checked. Glass must've been old." He apologized. He helped Aunt Petunia to a strong glass of tea and apologized profusely.

When they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was going on about how it nearly bit off his leg. Heather kept herself from rolling her eyes. "It tried to squeeze me to death" Piers claimed. "Really?!" Heather exclaimed, sounding shocked. 'if I can just distract him, maybe he won't mention anything about me' she thought. "Yeah! It was gonna do me in!" He shouted. "Gosh, how did you get away?!" She asked, leaning in. Piers eyes lit up. "It was coming after me but I —" Piers ranted, any thought of Heather chatting with snakes gone. Heather kept him talking about his imaginary heroics until he was headed home. Heather bit her lip, had she managed it?

"Bloody zookeepers! Not keeping the place safe! My Dudley could have been hurt!" Uncle Vernon yelled, as soon as Piers was out the door. He ranted and raved about safety, 'never going to that zoo again!', he exclaimed. Heather found it puzzling that Uncle Vernon would find a way to blame her for the weather, demotions, and any random misfortune (none of which she'd control over), but completely overlooked something she'd actually done. Well, she wasn't complaining. Let him be stupid, it would only work in her favour, Heather prepared supper and was given a plate and once she was in the dark safety of her cupboard, she sighed in relief.  
She had escaped punishment.


	3. Five Minutes and a Braid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Violence and abusive stuff in this chapter
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and the encouraging comments! Hope you enjoy this chapter! ❤️

Heather spent the next few weeks as she normally did. Waking early, cooking breakfast for the family then heading to school where she would be mocked and bullied for her baggy old clothes, meant for boys and full of holes, and for her glasses, taped together in three different places. It also hardly escaped her classmates' notice, that she had the worst marks in class and always stank, from the weeks of gardening and cleaning without even a cold shower to wash the sweat and grime from her body. In fact, the only way she stayed decently clean was by spraying herself down with the hose in the garden and waiting for the sun to dry her before Aunt Petunia would allow her back inside.

She spent her lunch hours hiding in the school's library, where the librarian would glance at her suspiciously, worried her books were in danger of 'that Potter girl's destructive, hoodlum ways'. The entire teaching staff was aware of her reputation, known for her troublemaking and bullying behaviour. According to them, she picked fights with poor, innocent Dudley and his gang, had no regard for school property or rules and had attention-seeking and rebellious tendencies.

Nobody ever questioned why a scrawny little girl would pick fights with boys three times her size or why she came out of those fights looking like she'd been mugged, she was simply Potter, synonymous with trouble. She would sit through classes, people throwing bits of eraser, paper and sometimes even chewing gum at her, which she would spend hours in her dark cupboard trying to pry from her hair. The teachers would ask questions and she would give a less than intelligent answer. She knew not to upstage Dudley, he was dumb, she had to be dumber.

Then after the school day was done she would head home. There she would spend the rest of her day, cooking dinner, then cleaning the house from top to bottom and maintaining the perfect lush green yard, pruned hedges and colourful flower beds. Then she'd have earned the leftovers, mere scaps, now cold and eat. Afterwards, she'd crawl into bed, curling up into a small ball and pull her threadbare blanket over her.

The summer holidays were upon them before she knew it and Heather was excited for the freedoms it would bring and the fact that she wouldn't have to go to the same school as Dudley anymore. He was going to Smeltings, and she would start at the local secondary school, Stonewall High. She was certain it'd be nearly as bad as primary school but without Dudley there was some hope that it wouldn't be complete hell. Dudley's gang came visiting at the house everyday and so after cleaning, she'd leave the house and head to the public library. She was rather certain that Dudley wouldn't look for her here.

In fact, that was the reason she had started visiting the library a few years ago. The gang had been Heather-hunting and she'd been running as fast as she could and ducked into the local library. She'd been breathing hard and was tense, ready to continue running and make an escape if there was any sign of being discovered. Slowly, she'd calmed down and felt the refreshing air conditioning against her sweaty skin, sending shivers through her. She'd browsed the shelves, selected a book and settled in. It had soon become her favourite place to hide.

Over the years she'd read books on cooking, etiquette, psychology, cleaning techniques, animals, edible plants and even a few fiction Ms. Dewberry, from the front desk, had recommended. Whenever Heather visited the library, she avoided the teen section at all costs, she knew if she was going to meet someone she knew, it would be there and she didn't fancy meeting any of her classmates in what she had decided was her haven. Today, she pulled a book on hairstyles from the shelf and opened it to the braids section. Heather struggled with her wild hair, trying to pull it from the top, the way the book showed and attempting to read the small, blurry instructions that accompanied the pictures. She was almost certain her prescription wasn't correct, yet another reason her grades were lacking. She had seen the book the week before and had been very fond of the idea of braiding her hair herself, of not having Aunt Petunia's claw-like fingers ripping her hair from her head. She'd been trying to teach herself but found it to be nearly impossible, her hair was just too tangled, however, she hadn't given up and today she managed to contain her hair in a lumpy, messy braid. She felt proud, she knew it probably looked horrid, but she'd done it! She had braided her hair! It had taken a while and, glancing at the clock, she knew she needed to head home to cook dinner. She slid the book back on the shelf and left.

She walked in the door and began to head to the kitchen to begin preparing dinner, when she was attacked. Hands grabbed her braid roughly, and pulled her hair free from the braid she'd put so much effort into. The claw-like fingers of Aunt Petunia pulled her back by her hair, yanking strands from her scalp and bringing tears to her eyes. "Where have you been!? Did you pretty yourself up for some boy? Are you whoring yourself out for some extra pounds?!" She accused, "Do you know what time it is? Dudley has been waiting for dinner for five minutes now! You selfish girl, get to the kitchen! Don't even think of leaving the house tomorrow!". She pushed her towards the door of the kitchen and Heather silently began on the dinner, dread pooling in her stomach.

The next day was an endless torment. She'd been cleaning and making meals like usual, but Dudley and his gang were over and were enjoying undoing her work and watching her clean the floors and scrub the kitchen and clean up the dishes they'd broken, and shoving her over into the pile of glass when she'd kneeled down to do so. She couldn't stop herself from flinching away and jumping at every loud sound or sudden movement. Her muscles were sore from being so tense, it was incredibly annoying but Heather couldn't bring herself to relax.

She'd messed up and she knew what was coming. She wished he'd just get it over with. She wanted to run, to escape from this horribly decorated house and live in the woods, but she couldn't. She had to stay, put up with all the Dursley's crap and survive. She was sitting in the bathroom, extracting the shards of glass embedded in her hands and forearms. She would pull out a shard and quickly press the fabric of her shirt to the wound to soak up the fresh gush of blood that would result. The cuts varied from tiny scratches to a few that were at least half an inch deep. After she'd removed the glass, she went down to her cupboard and found her rattiest shirt and ripped it into strips, then used the strips to bandage the deeper cuts and stashed the remains back on her shelf. Heather headed to the kitchen and started on dinner, Dudley's gang was saying their goodbyes to him, before they left to go home and eat dinner with their families.

Once the food was cooked and set on the table, Heather took a hesitant step towards the table. She flinched violently when Uncle Vernon spoke, "No food for you girl! I heard about the nonsense you pulled yesterday! You ungrateful little whelp! Had I not been worn out from a hard day's work, I would've beat you within an inch of your life! However, you will be getting what's coming to you today! Go wait in your cupboard!" He said with a snarl. Heather paled, and retreated to her cupboard. She pulled her knees to her chest and shook as she listened to the disgusting sounds of the Dursley family eating.

It had been months since her last beating. She'd been good, she stayed out of the way, did all her chores, quickly and efficiently, didn't fight back and did as she was told and now she was doomed, all because of five minutes and a braid.

In the past, she'd tried to find a strategy to the beatings, maybe if she ran around and tired him out, she could escape the majority of the beating, but she'd made it too obvious what she was doing, and had gotten her arm broken and a new scar for her collection in return. She'd tried playing dead and found that he didn't care if she was unconscious or not. It was best to just get it over with, let him hit her around a little, stay silent, don't cry and eventually he'd get bored.

She was pulled sharply from her thoughts when she heard the scraping of chairs and the clatter of dishes. Feet thumped against the stairs as Dudley and Aunt Petunia retreated upstairs. 'Would he use the cane, the belt or his fists this time?', She worried anxiously, biting her lip. The cane was always the worst, she tensed at the memories.

As heavy footsteps pounded closer, Heather's breathing quickened, her shaking growing more violent. Then she took a deep shuddering breath and let out a strangled whimper. 'Please make him go away! Let me hide here.', she begged silently. Then took a gasping breath, then another, and her shaking stopped. Her expression changed from one of terror to determination and resignation.

The cupboard door flew open and a meaty fist closed around her skinny arm. She was yanked from the dark safety and collided roughly with the wall. She was dragged into the kitchen, thick fingers digging into her arm painfully. Her arm was let go of and her shoulders hunched and arms raised as she saw movement. A fist connected with her skull and she was sent sprawling, glasses skittering across the tiles.

'Fists then', She thought, oddly detached. She took a breath, and got up. The world was now a blur of colour that swirled and swayed in her vision. More blows connected and Heather did her best to stay silent. She let out a gasp and clenched her teeth when a snap sounded and a burning pain spread from her arm outwards. She felt bile rise in her throat and swallowed it down. Yet the beating didn't end, after one blow sent her stumbling and her broken arm collided with what she assumed was the corner of the countertop, she slid to the ground.

Uncle Vernon kicked her "Get up!", He yelled. Heather rose shakily to her feet. The pain was unbearable, and her stomach was determined to empty itself on the floor. "Did you learn your lesson?" He asked. "Y-yes, Sir. I'm sorry I won't do it a-again." She said clenching her teeth to keep from vomiting. "Good. Your arms are bleeding on the floor, clean it up and go to bed." He ordered. Heather listened as his footsteps faded then fell to her knees and began to search for her glasses with her good arm. She finally found them and slipped them onto her nose. The world came into focus and she saw that her cuts had bled through her makeshift bandages and onto the tile. She went to the kitchen and pulled a bucket out from under the sink, found a rag and filled the bucket with water. Arms screaming in pain, she carried the bucket to the blood splattered tiles. She put it down, got on her knees and began to scrub.


	4. Chocolate Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos! It's really encouraging.  
> Also, sorry for how late this chapter is, I have a hard time getting motivated to do more than eat, sleep and go to the bathroom... 😅😞  
> Anyhow, enjoy!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I am not a blonde, nor currently involved in too many scandals to count. No offense.

Heather struggled through chores the next few weeks, the agony that came from washing dishes with the open wounds in her arms, and even simple things like getting out of bed and cooking, was unbearable. The worst chore, in her opinion, was the gardening and mowing. Pulling weeds was tedious at best with one arm and using the push mower was already a struggle with how small she was, add a broken arm to the mix and it took her hours to get it finished. Which not only took away from the amount of sleep she got but made Uncle Vernon very angry. She was rarely given meals in those weeks and instead new bruises for her ever-growing collection.

She soon fell into a routine, finding strategies to get the chores done quicker, and new ways to sneak food to make up for the loss of meals and sleep. Her arm slowly healed and by the time July swung around she could handle putting pressure on it without seeing stars.

Heather was headed over to Mrs Figg's house with a pounding headache. As soon as she had finished up in the garden, working up a sweat in the horrible humid heat, Mr Dursley had grabbed her by her arm and given her quite the lecture.

  
The gist: Tell anyone how you got injured and you will regret it.

  
It was the same speech he always gave her when going someplace where nobody was there to intimidate her into silence. The Dursleys were headed out for Dudley's big day, the day he got his Smeltings uniform. Vernon hadn't been able to shut up about it for the past week, so proud of 'his big smart boy', which made Heather bite her lip enough to bleed to keep from laughing. She was the one who did all of Dudley's schoolwork, and he was top of the class. She didn't mind doing it, it was nice to be able to try her hardest and see how she matched up, even if that meant she had to watch her teachers coo over Dudley while they glowered disapprovingly at her and even lectured her to be more like her cousin.

The walk to Mrs Figg's wasn't far and Heather was thankful to soon be in the cool, albeit stuffy house. Cats prowled around the house, Snowy looked down condescendingly from her perch, while Tufty welcomed her by winding between her legs. Mr Paws was silently watching Tibbles as the smaller cat made a mess of the kibble bowl. The door closed loudly behind her and Mrs Figg looked up from her book.. "There you are! Your Aunt told me you'd be over. What happened to your arm?" Mrs Figg asked, pointing at the dark bruise that still lingered, despite her arm being mostly healed. "I-i fell out of the tree in the backyard a few weeks back. Broke my arm. The doctor only took the cast off a day or two ago." Heather explained with a smile. "Clumsy girl. If I didn't know better, I'd think you do these things on purpose! Wasn't it only last year you broke your leg? You could injure yourself walking down the street! You know, I have an acquaintance from work who's just as clumsy as you, always crashing into things and knocking things over…" At that point, Heather started half listening, once Mrs Figg started talking about a friend, acquaintance or cat, it would be a long time before she stopped.

  
After Mrs Figg eventually stopped talking, Heather was allowed to watch the telly, she flipped through channels before deciding on a documentary. Mrs Figg served some stale chocolate cake that tasted like heaven to Heather. She managed to convince Mrs Figg that the Dursleys would've eaten out and that they wouldn't be having dinner together later, so having dinner here was necessary. Which wasn't a total lie, the Dursleys would've eaten out, they would come home later and she would cook and they wouldn't eat dinner together. They never did.  
So Mrs Figg fixed up some meatloaf with potatoes and they had an early dinner.

  
Heather was sad to leave, but she knew the beating she'd get if she didn't head back to Number 4 in time to make dinner, so she said her goodbyes and trudged back home.

The evening that followed made up for the lovely time she'd had at Mrs Figg's. It was horrid. Dudley was all full of himself after a day of being spoilt and pampered like a prince, and it put him in an excellent mood for wacking her with his stupid Smeltings stick, leaving nasty bruises on her legs and sides. Mr and Mrs Dursley were cooing over him in his horrendous maroon and orange uniform. Personally, Heather thought even whatever rags Aunt Petunia scrounged up for her uniform would look better and at the very least not as garish as the monstrosity Dudley was wearing.

For a moment, Heather was almost glad all her clothes were so desaturated of colour and plain until she remembered how threadbare the clothes were, and how cold she'd be, come fall. She used these thoughts to distract herself from the unbearable urge to laugh, which she knew giving into would cost her more than she was willing to pay. She focused on preparing the supper and keeping all her effort towards keeping the food in the sweet spot between overcooked and undercooked. It paid off in the end, the food was accepted with a grumble about 'half-decent for a freak' and a reluctant acknowledgement that she'd done good enough to not be punished.  
That night Heather dreamed of chocolate cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comment if you feel like it.  
> Can anyone guess who Mrs Figg's aquiantance is?


	5. The Cupboard under the Stairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather gets a letter, McGonagall gets a shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Hope this chapter's good!

The next morning Heather was awoken by the clattering of pots in the kitchen. With a sigh, she crawled out of bed and into the kitchen. An odd and slightly nauseating smell was filling the room, emanating from a metal tub in the sink. She peered in and found rags sitting in gray water. Heather held back a sigh. This was her new uniform, she assumed. She'd be in her usual style of oversized rags for school. She really hadn't expected a new uniform, not in the slightest. The Dursleys had always given her the very least they could, hand-me-down clothes, dinner scraps, a cupboard to sleep in, and non-prescription glasses. She had simply hoped, apparently in vain, that she wouldn't look like she was wearing forty year old elephant skin. 'Looks like I won't be getting any new friends', she thought. 'Like anyone would want to be friends with a freak anyways', a taunting voice chimed in.

  
Aunt Petunia glared down at her, daring her to complain about the stinky, ugly rags. She didn't and sat down at the table. Uncle Vernon and Dudley entered the kitchen, their noses wrinkled. Uncle Vernon started reading the paper and Dudley thumped his Smeltings stick against the table. The sound of mail sliding through the mail slot and landing on the doormat broke the silence. "Get the mail Dudley." Uncle Vernon said. "Make Heather get it!" Dudley whined. "Get the mail Heather." Uncle Vernon ordered. Heather sighed internally and got up to get the mail. She leafed through the envelopes so she could tell them what they'd got and was shocked to find a letter addressed to her. Very specifically addressed to her, who in the world knew where she slept?

  
It was an envelope of thick, yellow parchment, with no visible postage stamp and was addressed to 'The Cupboard Under The Stairs'. Whatever it was, it was hers. If anything there was a pretty purple seal on it. She slid it silently under the cupboard door and continued on to the kitchen. She handed Uncle Vernon what looked like a bill and a postcard. He opened them and started a horribly boring conversation with Aunt Petunia about the dangers of seafood and how it was odd that Marge had been convinced to eat something so abnormal. Heather wondered who the letter was from. She had nobody that'd send her a letter.

She seemed to float throughout the day, her mind dreaming up all sorts of possible letter senders. Maybe a long lost relative was going to adopt her or Santa was writing a letter to explain why he'd never given her any presents. As she weeded the flowerbed she thought of a particularly absurd possibility, perhaps the letter had come from the snake, maybe he'd made it to Brazil and was writing to tell her how wonderful it was there and how he was enjoying squeezing the life out of stupid people like the Dursleys. She shook her head and giggled. Eventually her chores were done. She then asked Aunt Petunia if she could leave and her Aunt was only too glad to be rid of her. She stuck the letter in her huge pocket and left the house, heading for the library.

went from the humid heat into the cool library and sighed. She gave Ms Dewberry a bright smile and made her way to the back of the library, she found her little nook and settled in. This was always the best place to hide in the library, it was the section with all the boring books on nature and animals, the shelves were filled with large encyclopedias. Nobody ever read them except her and so she never was bothered by strange people or bullies from her school back here. She looked down at the fancy letter and admired the pretty purple seal before she broke it. She slid a piece of matching yellow parchment out of the envelope and with hope filling her like a balloon, she unfolded it and read:

Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Ms Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,  
Deputy Headmistress

Heather blinked. Witchcraft and wizardry? Was somebody trying to induct her into a cult? Then something clicked, of course! Her freakishness! There had always been something different about her, and now she knew what it was, magic. She was a witch. That was how she'd set that snake free and how she'd teleported to the roof of the school and how she'd turned her teacher's wig blue a few years back. Magic. The Dursleys all said that was a bad word, but they thought everything was bad. All the fun things anyways. She could go to a magic school! Then suddenly it struck her. She had no money, only the few coins she'd picked up off the road, she couldn't pay to go to a magic school. Schools, especially private schools and boarding schools were expensive, there was no way she'd be able to get money to go to school. She couldn't get a job, she wasn't even eleven yet. Not only that but she had no idea how to send an owl to them. She sighed, slid the letter back in the envelope and shoved it back in her pocket.  
A few days past and Heather continued with her usual routine. The only change was when she visited the library she would scour the fantasy section and the mythology books, attempting to figure out what was real and what wasn't. It was impossible but she enjoyed thinking over the what ifs of what could be in the magic world.

**********

Minerva was going through the confirmation letters that had arrived to her office. Some muggleborn families requested a guide for the necessary shopping and others, someone to explain the wizarding world to them. She scheduled appointments for them with the different professors and continued on. She shook her head as she read a letter from Lucius Malfoy with veiled threats and subtle bribes hidden within. The man wanted the very best for his son, that much was clear. She wrote a letter reassuring the man his son would be well taken care of but not given any special treatment as it would be unfair to other students. She checked through the letters until all the names on the list had been crossed off except for one.

Heather Potter.

Surely the letter was here, perhaps she'd missed it. She looked through the stack searching for the girl's letter. Nothing. She sat down at her desk and wrote a letter to the girl. It simply stated that she was required to send confirmation of her attendance and that her school fees were already paid for. She floated it over to a piece of parchment that folded itself into an envelope around the letter. Her charmed quill wrote the address and she picked it up, intending to send the letter with her tawny owl when something caught her eye. The letter was addressed:

Ms H. Potter  
The Cupboard under the Stairs  
4 Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey

The cupboard under the stairs?! Why was the child sleeping under the stairs? Those muggles! Those nasty horrible muggles! She'd told Dumbledore not to put the girl with them! She'd told him! He'd spent years reassuring the order the girl was safe! Had the man not even checked in on the child? If they were neglecting the child, who knew what else they'd done. She stared down at the letter, rage bubbling to life inside her. Then she decided, this letter, she'd deliver in person.


	6. From Bad to Worse to Great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather is having a very bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More abusive stuff in this chapter. Not much. Mostly just verbal.

It was July 31st. The deadline to send her owl. Heather's heart felt like it was being crushed. She would not be going to magic school. She would be going to Stonewall High. She would live with the Dursleys until she was eighteen. 'Only eight more years to go', she thought glumly.

  
She could probably get a job in five years and maybe get enough money to go to the Hogwarts school but she'd probably be too old. Her body seemed to be slow today, as if the horrible weight in her chest was actually there. She'd burnt a piece of bacon that morning and had her serving taken away, she'd taken much more time than usual on the chores and when she'd tried to run from Dudley and his gang, it seemed like her feet were cement blocks and she'd been beaten to a pulp. Her whole day had gone all wrong and she just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.

  
She was sitting in the library in one of the chairs towards the back, reading an interesting book about surviving in the wilderness when a mocking voice pulled her attention away from her book, "Oh, look, it's ratty, smelly Heather Potter.". She glanced up through her glasses and recognized the face of a girl in her year. A girl who seemed to enjoy taunting her at every turn. "Get dressed in a dumpster, Scarface?" She taunted, tossing her dark brown hair over her shoulder. Heather went back to her book. There was no way she'd beat the girl in a fight, she was bigger and taller, like most kids her age and Heather highly suspected the beat down she'd received earlier had revived one of her old wounds, her chest had been aching horribly ever since. It really was best to try to avoid a fight.

  
Unfortunately, the brunette didn't share her feelings. "Too good to look at me Scarface? Scared?" She hissed. Heather looked up at her and gave her a withering glare. "What? Did I hurt your feelings? Poor orphan Heather, doesn't even know how to take a bath! Do you even know what a brush is? Have you seen yourself in the mirror? Your parents probably took one look at you and killed themselves 'cause you were so ugly!" The girl laughed. Heather felt something inside her snap. She had had enough. Today had been very possibly the worst day of her life and here was a snooty girl who'd probably never even done her own laundry or cleaned her dishes, thinking she was so tough. The rage she felt was blinding and only after she'd swung the hardcover book and heard the thunk as it connected with the girl's head did she realize what she'd done. The girl had been knocked to the ground with the force she'd hit her and was looking up at her, dazed. Heather froze, then she dropped the book and ran. She flew out of the library, ignoring Ms Dewberry's concerned calls and fled to her house.

Only after she'd shut the door behind her did she realize what a bad idea this was. She looked up at the clock in the entranceway and her eyes widened in horror. She was late. She was a full 30 minutes late to make supper. Her breath caught in her throat as panic overtook her. "Girl!!" Uncle Vernon's voice boomed. She flattened herself against the door as Uncle Vernon stormed towards her.  
"How dare you miss supper! Your Aunt had to cook dinner herself because of your lazy arse!" He thundered, spattering her face in spittle.  
'Aunt Petunia had to cook dinner herself? What a tragedy.' a voice deadpanned in her head, despite her growing terror.

  
"You ungrateful little bitch! Taking what we so generously gave you for granted! Never again! I've had enough of your blasted shenanigans! You will regret ever disrespecting us! Ungrateful little– ", his tirade was cut short by a sharp knocking on the door. Uncle Vernon's face seemed to get even more unpleasant, something Heather hadn't thought possible, then he threw her out of the way. Her side connected with the side table and Uncle Vernon threw the door open. A very severe-looking woman stood there in deep blue robes.

**********

  
Minerva had made her way to the address on the letter as soon as she possibly could. She approached the house with distaste. It was completely perfect, not a blade of grass out of place. It was unnatural. She quickened her steps when she heard shouting from inside the house. She knocked on the door, it opened and she was met with a large man who looked like he had just run a marathon. He had sweat dripping down his face and was so red he looked as though he'd explode from the pressure. "Who are you!", He demanded, "Whatever you're selling, we don't want it!". The man tried to close the door on her but she stuck her boot in the gap, preventing him from doing so. "What're you– " He began. Minerva took great pleasure in cutting him off, "I am Professor McGonagall, teacher at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. I am here to pick up Ms. Potter so she can attend." She said, forcing the door open and glaring down at the man.

He grew even redder, to the point of turning purple and yelled, "Petunia! There's a freak at the door!". A tall scowling woman rushed to the door. "What're you here for?'" she asked. "I am here to take Ms. Potter." Minerva stated. "Don't be absurd. The girl has no money for school and we are certainly not going to pay for it!" The woman said, with a sniff. "Her tuition is already paid for. She will be attending whether or not you approve." Minerva told her sharply, she was quickly losing patience with these people.

Heather felt a flicker of hope. Her tuition was already paid? By whom? She looked up at the older lady, Professor McGonagall if she remembered correctly. "Um, ma'am? Who paid for my tuition?" She asked, her voice wavering. The woman made eye contact then gave her a once over, her lips pursing as she did. "Your parents did. They arranged it before they died. Now grab your things we're leaving." The woman said. "Now wait just one– " Uncle Vernon started, before he was interrupted. He seemed to be getting spoken over quite a lot today. "I suppose she'll have to go. Just a burden on our family anyways. Girl, get your things." Aunt Petunia said without looking at her. Heather blinked then went to her cupboard, gathered her rags and drawings and stuffed them in her ratty backpack along with a handful of coins, her letter and a book she'd stolen from Dudley's second room. She was at the woman's side in a few moments. Aunt Petunia opened the door, "Out. Don't you be bringing her back. We took her in out of kindness but there's only so much we can do for a lost cause and I'm sure you freaks can find a better place for a ungrateful brat like her.". The Professor placed her hand on Heather's shoulder and squeezed in before she guided her away from the house.

After a few minutes of walking, the lady spoke, "We are going to apparate or teleport in muggles terms, to Hogwarts, it will feel a bit uncomfortable.". Heather looked up at the Professor and nodded. There was a horribly twisty sensation in her gut, and she was soon sicking up on the ground, her side pulsing with a dull pain. The lady patted her shoulder in an awkward attempt to comfort her and she looked up to find they were standing outside a gate. Beyond the gate was a huge castle with countless towers and windows, her eyes widened to take it all in and soon the woman was urging her on, past the gates and up a trail towards the castle. Heather was starting to think this might be the best day of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Leave any suggestions or ideas in the comments!


	7. A Guest at Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather gets a guest room. Dumbledore gets yelled at.

Heather stared up at the huge castle in awe. It was giant and made entirely out of stone. She had the thought that it'd be very easy to get lost and snapped her attention back to Professor McGonagall. She followed her closely and only spared a few glanced to the moving portraits that hung on the wall. The woman was walking very fast and Heather quietly padded along behind her, careful to not fall behind.

The woman stopped by a portrait of a fierce looking man leaning on a ruby encrusted sword. "Izabela" The professor said clearly. The man gave a crooked smile and the portrait swung open. "That's the password for my quarters. It's my niece's name, she's quite a bit older than you. Anyhow, you can come visit my quarters whenever you need to, provided I am present. I have a guest room over there." She said pointing at a door off to the side. The main room was decorated in bright rich colours of red, orange and yellow, furnished with warm mahogany. Heather nodded. "You shall stay here for the night. I shall go talk with the headmaster and we shall go shopping for your school things tomorrow." The woman paused, looking over at her, pity flashing over her features. "Are… are you hurt anywhere?" She asked. Heather bit the inside of her cheek. "A little. It's just a few bruises." She said quietly. The Professor pursed her lips. Heather stared down at her shoes.  
"Well… the school mediwitch is not here at this time. She is helping with an outbreak of dragonpox. However, our potions master is trained in healing, although he is currently rather stressed about stocking the hospital wing so he might be rather grumpy. I really have to get to the headmaster, are you alright staying here for a while? You can explore the castle a bit or head to the library. The portraits can give you directions." McGonagall offered uncertainly. Heather nodded eagerly. A magic library! She could finally confirm some of her what ifs! "Alright then. I'll head out and get you an appointment with Severus. Stay inside the castle." She said, then left the room.

Heather stood in the silence for a moment before slipping off her holey trainers and opening the door to the guest room. It was very plain, a window was on the far side, there was a mahogany desk, wardrobe and bedside table and a bed with a crimson bedset. She laid her bag on the bed and looked around the room. It was around the size of Dudley's second bedroom, much larger than her cupboard. The bed looked very soft and Heather wondered what it would feel like to sleep on. It was only a guest room though. Which meant it wasn't really hers, it would be best not to get attached to this lovely room, they'd probably shove her in a cupboard as soon as they realized what she was. But she wasn't yet locked up in a cupboard so she figured she would find her way to the library. She went back to the main room and slipped her shoes back on.

**********

Minerva soon found herself standing in front of Headmaster Dumbledore's office. She took a deep breath to calm herself before knocking on the door. "Come in Minerva", called the ancient man. And so she did. She threw the door open and marched over to his desk.  
"So, this afternoon I was going through confirmation letters and found Ms Potter's to be missing. I wrote her a second letter but before I could send it I saw the address. A cupboard, Albus! A cupboard! The girl has been living in a cupboard! So I went to her home and collected her. I will not have the girl living in an abusive, neglectful household! I expect you to come up with an alternative solution. She has sacrificed and lost too much already, I will not have her suffer further!", She demanded angrily.  
"Heather Potter is at Hogwarts?", The man asked, eyes wide with shock. "Yes Albus, she is.", Minerva confirmed.  
Albus sighed, "The girl is still in danger. The blood wards protect her while she is with her Aunt. Being with her relatives is the only way to sustain the wards. The only other place she'd be remotely safe is Hogwarts. We could gather the order, have them watch–". "Watch Albus!? Watch!? Watching will not protect her from words and lack of care! Having 24 hour surveillance on her would be just as effective outside of that house. The blood wards are useless to us if her relatives kill her and besides, she has many other relatives! Even I am a distant cousin! She has ties to many pure and half-blood families. She shares blood with practically all of the sacred 28! I refuse to allow you to send her back to that wretched home and if you even think about leaving her there, I will make you regret it!", McGonagall warned.

**********

Albus was shocked. He hadn't realized this. He'd intended for the girl to be raised away from her fame however there wasn't any way to keep her from her past any longer. He'd assumed the girl would be attached to her guardians by now and if they were only harmful for her now, there was truly no reason for her to stay with them. He could simply select a wizarding family that had blood ties and loyalty to the light and have her stay with them for the holidays. It was a perfect solution. That way the girl would have reason to fight. Love is always an excellent motivator! "I surrender Minerva, the girl shall not stay with her relatives any longer. She shall be a ward of the school until we find an appropriate family. I assume you can care for the girl this week. I will arrange a schedule to ensure her care is spread equally between the teachers until she has been placed in a home.", He said placatingly, the twinkle back in his eyes full force. She huffed angrily, shooting him a glare and slammed the door behind her, leaving to find Severus and bully him into treating the girl. Dumbledore sighed, it would take a while to win Minerva back after this incident. He sucked on a lemon drop and began to narrow down families that would be appropriate for raising the-girl-who-lived.


	8. Lily's Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather meets Snape.  
> Snape meets Heather.

Heather wandered through the corridors, asking portraits for directions to the library. She soon found that the silvery ghosts were equally helpful in directing her and that they were around ten times more awe-inspiring than portraits. Perhaps, she thought looking back, that was why she hadn't noticed the blatant lie that the silvery clown ghost had fed her.

She'd followed the ghost's instructions perfectly and realized she'd been tricked when she ended up in a corridor that lacked the portraits every other one she'd passed through had. Instead she found a wall entirely covered in parchment listing banned objects, if the title was anything to go by. She was a quarter way through reading it when a shadow appeared over her.

She turned to find a tall man with very scary eyes, mad glee radiated off him, much like Uncle Vernon when he'd had quite a bit to drink and was about to beat her 'till she screamed. She shivered, fear creeping down her spine. "What're you doin' here?", He asked menacingly. Heather tried to force the words, 'Sorry Sir, I took a wrong turn.' out of her mouth but it seemed to be paralyzed by fear. "Sneaking into school, eh? Nasty little children, deserve to be punished, you do!", He exclaimed, pale eyes glinting. Terror seized Heather and when he grabbed her, she screamed.

**********

Severus had just finished carefully delivering yet another crate of finished potions to the hospital wing for Poppy to sort once she returned. He was heading down to the dungeons, ready for a quiet relaxing evening after a long day's work, when a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the halls. He resisted the urge to cover his ears and block out the horrid noise and hurried a few halls down. There he found Mr Filch nearly strangling a girl in an attempt to quiet her. "Mr Filch, what is going on here?", He demanded sharply. The man dropped the girl in shock and she scrambled away from him. "The girl snuck in. I was only–", the man began. "Despite what you thought you were doing in that small brain of yours, you were assaulting a child on school grounds. Don't expect to be let off easy this time, Mr Filch.", He said bitingly.

He still remembered his school days when the filthy man took joy in taking a ruler to his hands for even the smallest slights, and he'd traumatized quite a few students in his years, Severus wouldn't have minded if he targeted spoiled brats like Potter or Longbottom Sr but he seemed to make a habit of targeting the ones that needed a beating the least. Also the man had the most aggravating habit of moving all his things to one side of his desk while cleaning, and he smelled like moldy garbage. Just an unpleasant person altogether, though sometimes he would be forced to cooperate with the smelly man for school duties. Severus stopped that train of thought before it could continue. He glared at the man until he retreated into his office, scowling. He looked down to find the girl curled up and worryingly still.

"The barbarian is gone. You are safe. Now, what are you doing here?", He asked harshly. From what he could remember the staff members didn't have any young relatives visiting nor children of their own. The girl looked up at him and his heart stopped. Lily's eyes. The girl had Lily's eyes, matted black hair, olive skin and her jade eyes framed by broken glasses. Heather Potter. Her skin and hair were Potter's, however her face was Lily's. High cheekbones, bright eyes, a strong slender nose and defined lips. She was the dark reflection of his best friend.

The girl croaked before clearing her throat and speaking, "I was trying to get to the library but I got lost. I'm sorry for troubling you.", She said in a shaky voice.

That, he hadn't expected. The girl had some manners! That didn't mean she wouldn't be a troublemaker though. Any spawn of Potter is bound to be spoiled. "Why are you here at Hogwarts? You are aware that term hasn't started yet, correct?", He asked with a sneer. "Uh, yes sir. Professor McGonagall collected me from my house earlier. My relatives don't like magic and didn't want me to go. They refused to bring me shopping for my school things so I'm going with Professor McGonagall tomorrow.", The girl explained in a voice that pleaded with him to believe her.

He saw the hole in her story almost instantly. Why would Minerva take her out of her home the night before for a shopping trip? She wouldn't. Meaning the girl was taken for a different reason. He examined her closely before he saw something he'd missed at first glance. Bruises. New bruises layered over old and several scars peeking out from under her oversized clothes. There was the reason. Abuse. Potter's spawn was not spoiled. Lily's daughter was hurt. Abused. 'Like you', a voice whispered in his head. The girl was so small and her jade eyes were wary. He had promised to protect the girl and it was clear he'd failed. He'd let himself assume she was well taken care of. That he'd be able to teach her, help her defeat the dark lord and maybe live to see her graduate and retire early but now he was determined to intervene. She would not be going back to wherever she'd been staying. He checked the time. 5:16. Dinner was in an hour and 14 minutes, enough time to heal the girl, and have a quick moment to himself before having an meal with the rest of the staff. "Come with me.", He ordered evenly. Then he turned, headed for the dungeons, assuming she'd follow.

**********

Heather followed the dark-haired man trying to keep her memories at bay. She'd been pulled into a horrible one the moment Mr Filch had touched her and then she'd no longer been in the castle with the scary man but at the Dursleys with Uncle Vernon looming over her with his belt after she'd destroyed a dish that Petunia kept screeching was her favourite. Then she couldn't breath, pudgy fingers wrapped around her throat as she choked on her breath and her vision went spotty. She shook herself back to the present and focused on the dark man's robes in an attempt to ground herself. They were big, very big and they billowed out around him. The man himself wasn't that big, he was skinny, built for speed instead of brute strength, just like her.

She wondered if he wore them to look bigger, like a threatened animal from her encyclopedia, she decided she liked this idea, better to be seen as predator than prey, she figured. The robes were long and flowy, a bit like Professor McGonagall's. 'Was this how wizarding people dressed?', she wondered. She followed the man down a few flights of stairs before realizing she had no idea who he was, "What's your name?" She asked hesitantly. "My name is Severus Snape. You will call me Professor Snape or Sir. I teach here at Hogwarts." He answered shortly.

**********

"Oh." He heard the girl say. 'How eloquent', he mocked internally then chastised himself immediately. It wasn't like he could hold a conversation any better. "What do you teach, Sir?", She asked politely. "I teach potion-making.", Severus replied. "What do potions do?" She asked, sounding nervous. He glanced back to find her blushing furiously. He was obviously making her uncomfortable, or nervous, though he didn't know why, he'd given her no reason to believe he wouldn't answer. "Anything you like, if you have the skills. Their is a potion, Elixir to induce Euphoria, though more commonly shortened to Euphoria for convenience that uses shrivelfig, porcupine quills, peppermint, sopophorous beans, and wormwood, that induces an irrational happiness. The ending colour should be a sunshine yellow or a lemon yellow, not a mustard yellow, a canary yellow or a golden yellow; it is also known for a prismatic display once completed. It is a good example of a potion that can alter emotions. Another potion is-", he began to explain then cut himself off with a grimace. He was talking too much. Lily and Mother always told him it was best to keep quiet with people he didn't know. Heather was a stranger, in-depth explanations were for his slytherins and his fellow staff members, but only the good ones.

"There are many other potions that can change your appearance, your opinions, level of honesty and even your DNA. They can also poison and heal, among many other things.", He explained, focusing on giving a short, quick explanation. Of course he knew the child wouldn't appreciate potion-making for the glorious thing that it was, none of his students did. The only students he had with a genuine love for the subject were a few of his Slytherins and the Weasley twins who seemed determined to use their knowledge to blow up the school.

"That sounds useful. Is it anything like cooking?" Heather asked. "A bit, although potions is a rather more exact art than cooking.", He said, fighting to keep his voice calm. Cooking! As if something as mundane as cooking could possibly compete with potions! The girl was quiet after that, so unnaturally quiet that Severus had glanced behind him several times to ensure she was still there. She was, her feet ghosting soundlessly over the stone floor. They finally reached his lab. It was connected to his classroom, chambers and his office, per his request. It had been his only demand after being turned down for the DADA position. He muttered the password and the portrait of young Salazar Slytherin swung open. He crossed the room and entered his storeroom, selecting a bruise salve and turned to find the girl missing.

She was lingering by the portrait, looking anxious. "What are you doing? Come here.", He ordered. She took a timid step forward, "Sir, where are we?" She asked. "My laboratory. I wish to treat your bruises.", He explained, trying his best to be patient with her. "Sit.", He ordered gesturing to a wooden stool. The girl crossed the room, climbed up onto the stool and sat rigidly. She didn't swing her legs or shift, she sat completely still. Severus opened the balm and scooped some of the cold cream onto his fingers with a slight purse of his lips and began to spread the salve onto the exposed bruises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if Heather's acting like bland bread right now. I figured she'd feel uncomfortable with a person of authority. She'll start showing more personality once she feels more comfortable and makes some friends.  
> Also i edited this because i decided on an Autistic head-canon for Snape.  
> I, myself am not autistic, so i apologize deeply if it inaccurate in any way. If you have any objections or issues with the way he is portrayed, please leave them in the comments and i will try to fix any misrepresentations.  
> Thanks!


	9. Bruise Salve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape heals Heather and feels like he's in over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this was a bit later than promised. I just moved out of my home, and I now live at boarding school.  
> That's my excuse.

Heather waited for… well, she didn't know what. The man, Professor Snape, hadn't hurt her or made any moves to but her body tensed at his touch. When the cool cream met her achy skin, she let out a choked gasp. Mr Snape paused, before continuing, gently rubbing her tender skin. She'd never been touched so gently before, everyone seemed to enjoy grabbing her, ripping out her hair, throwing her and hitting her, no gentle touches or hugs or comfort. It felt… scary, but good, her skin tingled pleasantly under his fingertips and Heather's face burnt as she realized she was leaning into his touch. She felt her heart ache when he stopped and looked up at him to find his brow furrowed and his eyes staring intently at the stone floor.

**********

Severus wanted to die. The girl needed treatment and seemed to be, much to her embarrassment, enjoying the contact. She probably hadn't grown up with much affection.

So far it had been all good and Severus didn't mind doing it. Infact, a small part of him enjoyed making the small girl happy, though he would sooner kiss Voldemort than admit it. However, her bruising was obviously extensive and now that he was done treating her arms, he was unsure what to do. He could send her into his bathroom to apply it herself, however there were spots the girl wouldn't be able to reach and the salve was valuable, made with expensive materials, and it was quite a nuisance to brew.

He would much prefer not to use any more than was needed, which meant he would have to assist her. It wasn't that he thought of her that way, Merlin no, but he was rather uncomfortable touching a body that was not his own. Damn Poppy for being such a do-gooder, she should be the one doing this!

He looked down at the girl who he realized was watching him. He was being foolish. The girl, Lily's girl was in pain and he was worried about his own discomfort. "Heather would you please remove your shirt, I assume the bruising goes further than your arms.", He said with a huff.  
She nodded after a moment, eyes flitting to his face before averting her gaze.

She carefully slipped the ratty shirt over her head. Severus' breath caught, her back was mutilated, covered in ugly scars that Severus recognized immediately to be from a belt.

His own father had preferred to take a belt to him whenever he'd done something wrong, the few times that he'd gone so far as to break skin, his normally distant mother out of guilt, had treated him with a healing potion disguised as cough syrup afterwards, so luckily he'd gotten away with a few faint scars. Heather had not been so lucky. He pulled himself out of his thoughts and began applying the salve to her back, being even more gentle than before. Despite his efforts, the girl gasped and shrank away from him at every touch.

The salve vanished welts and bruises from existence, leaving only the scars. Without the injuries her ribs and spine stood out horribly, with nothing to hide them other than the scars and burns that littered her body. She was rather severely underweight. He swallowed down his emotions, desperately pushing away his guilt, anger and terror-filled memories that were trying to force their way onto his face and envelope his mind. Once he was done with her back, he asked, "Would you prefer to do your front?", Hoping desperately she would say yes.

"Um, yes. How do I… ?" She asked awkwardly. "Apply a thin layer to your bruises, they should disappear completely, if not apply another layer. If the bruise fades but doesn't disappear after a second layer then it's likely there's an underlying injury." He explained.

**********

Heather dipped two fingers into the bruise salve and uncertainly smeared a small amount onto a bruise on her side from being kicked earlier that day. It vanished instantly and she bit her lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. She applied the lotion frugally, only needing a second layer for a few bruises, until she reached a particularly dark one. It was the bruise that'd been aching the worst all day. She applied a layer, watched as it faded then applied a second, the bruise didn't disappear. Snape, who'd been watching with a grimace the entire time, probably to ensure she used it properly, came over and kneeled by her side. "May I?", He asked. She nodded, watching his expression carefully before once again, averting her eyes. He whipped out a polished stick and whispered something. Her side began to glow a deep purple along with a spot on her calf, a patch on her bicep and an area around her hip, shining through her thin pants.

**********

Severus grimaced. These spots indicated the girl either had broken bones in these areas or had mishealed injuries that she could've been living with for years. Who on earth had Albus sent this girl to live with? Any wizarding family would know not to touch the golden girl, in fact, he'd expected her to be worshipped and doted on. An obnoxious, spoiled brat, completely full of herself because Lily decided to sacrifice her life for her instead of standing aside.

Severus had been burning with fury when people had named Heather the saviour of the wizarding world, after all it hadn't been the baby, but the mother who defeated the dark lord. Heather had simply been the motivation for the magic that killed him.

Albus wouldn't have been stupid enough to place her in a death eater family, would he? He'd thought she would've been placed with the Weasleys, the Bones or even the Longbottoms. It seemed not.

"Who do you live with, Ms Potter?" Severus asked, focusing on the still, silent girl. "How do you know my name?" The girl asked. She had a defiant little glint in her eyes. "If you are fishing for compliments, Ms Potter, you have come to the wrong person. Now, who do you live with?" He asked, impatience colouring his tone. The girl pursed her lips then swallowed, "I live with my Aunt Petunia.", She said, suddenly very interested in her extremely ragged shoes.  
Tuney? That bumbling old fool had placed Lily's girl with that horse face! That nasty putrid little twit! Didn't he know that Lily didn't get along with Petunia?! He needed to be alone. He wanted to send the girl back to Minerva's rooms and throw something. A lot of somethings. He glanced at the girl and his plan was forgotten. She was still injured. There was no time for a childish tantrum.

"I'm going to perform a diagnosis spell.", He informed her before reciting the incantation. A small piece of parchment formed and he snatched it from the air. She had a broken rib, a mishealed leg bone, a mishealed arm and a minor fracture to her hip. How the girl was breathing seemingly comfortably was a mystery to him. "Your rib is broken, as well as part of your hip bone, your arm mishealed after a major break and your leg, after a minor. You will need a bone-correction potion for your arm and leg. The other two injuries are rather clean breaks so they can be remedied by a healing spell. Neither of these treatments will be pleasant but I can supply you with a pain potion afterwards.", He explained.

She looked him straight in the eyes and he was shocked by their intensity, he tried to keep eye contact. Averting his eyes always made Lily think that he was hiding something. He needed Heather to trust him, if only a little. She stared at him for a moment before looking away and relaxing. It wasn't until her body took on a slouch and her breathing changed that he realized how tense and on guard she'd been. Her breathing was a bit deeper and uneven, finally showing the signs he'd expected. The girl seemed to be an expert at hiding her weakness. "Okay, I.. I want to be treated.", She said with a tremble to her voice. He nodded.

He went to his store room, climbed the ladder and found the milky green bone-correction potion, he also grabbed a trio of pain potions and a single bottle of dreamless sleep. He climbed down, the creaky ladder announcing this fact to the world.

He set the bottles on his counter. "For now I will heal the broken bones, then tonight, you will take these potions before you sleep." , He said gesturing at the purple-hued dreamless sleep and the sludgy bone-correction potions, "then in the morning, you will take one of these three potions with your breakfast, and then one each meal for the rest of the day. This should make the process as painless as possible." He explained, briefly gesturing at the dark orange bottles. Then he crouched by Heather's side and withdrew his wand. "Brace yourself.", He warned, then whispered, "Brackium Emendo".

**********

Heather gave a shudder as a chill seemed to seep through her body, her side and hip felt painfully cold. It lingered for a moment before the cold dissipated and she felt fresh, like she'd just brushed her teeth. "Was that it?", She asked. The professor raised his eyebrow. "..Yes. What were you expecting? I am a professional. I altered the spell to be numbing instead of burning a few years ago, I find this version to be slightly more bearable.", He explained, sounding a bit proud. "It wasn't bad, I thought it would be worse.", Heather said. He nodded distractedly. He pushed the jar of salve towards her. "You may apply the rest in my lavatory.", He offered, pointing at a door to her right. Heather nodded, a small smile on her face. "Thanks.", She said. Taking the jar and closing the bathroom door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly believe that 'Brackium Emendo' is a real spell, Lockhart was just too stupid to use it properly.


	10. Happy Birthday I Forgot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boring explanation stuff. Sorry. 🥺

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoy the new chapter.
> 
> Also, i know that i refer to Severus' meltdowns as "tantrums", not because i think that is the correct term for it but because Severus was never diagnosed with Autism and doesn't understand that's what he has. He just assumes he's socially awkward, obsessive, easily angered and upset. He hates himself for being "oversensitive" and easily provoked, so he tends to refer to himself as childish. He's been taught by his family and his peers to be very ashamed of his differences, so his tries to just avoid interaction and vulnerability most of the time.

Severus watched the door close with a deep sigh. He wished he could go back to the day before, when he'd been ignorant and completely blind to Heather's life. He didn't want to think about how her life must've been lived up until now. He didn't want to care. He wouldn't be able to treat her nicely in the future. And here he was, raising the hopes of an 11 year old girl. It was his fault. He'd promised Lily when they were younger that they would always protect each other. It had always been her protecting him, letting him stay over at her house and yelling at his bullies, he owed her quite a lot. Then he'd repaid her by getting her and her husband killed. The only thing left of her, he'd abandoned to a life of abuse, not even bothering to check in on her. He'd promised Dumbledore he'd protect little Heather, but he'd failed at that too. The next few years were sure to be hard for her as well. He would watch over her from a distance. He would need to prepare her.

A knock came at the door, pulling him from his thoughts. "Come in.", He called wearily. Minerva entered the room with a determined look. 'Great. What's she trying to get me to do for her now?', he thought with a not-so-internal grimace. He checked the time again, 6:04. He had 26 minutes. He would need to give up his cool-down time to prepare for dinner. Damn Minerva. "How may I help you?", He asked tersely. She spoke with a calming voice, as if he were a child about to throw a tantrum, "Severus, I know you've been busy, but I have a small favour to ask. You see, I picked up Heather Potter from her home and she is in need of healing. As you know, Poppy is still helping with the outbreak. So I was–".

"Yes. I am aware. I've already healed her and laid out a short term plan. I will prepare a more long term plan for her nutrition and overall health, I assure you. She is taken care of. I have to ask however, why you thought it was a good idea to leave an eleven year old girl alone to wander the school! You know very well what the Headmaster has planned this year and what Hagrid was sent for. Not only that but there are plenty of places she could've gotten lost or injured and wouldn't have been found for hours! Did you even tell her about the forbidden forest!?" He hissed, growing more angry by the minute.

"I..how… I told her to stay inside… at least I did something! I was the one who took her from those retched muggles! I just didn't... how did you find her?" She asked weakly, pursing her lips. "Filch caught her and nearly strangled her trying to keep her quiet. I noticed her condition and brought her back here. How much have you explained to her? She said she had been staying with Petunia, i doubt that twit told her much.”, Severus hissed, shaking his head. “I.. I told her she was staying here and that she was going to attend Hogwarts. I don’t even know where to begin with the rest.”, Minerva sighed. “We shall see how much she knows and work up from there. Have you spoken with the Headmaster?”, Severus asked, trying to get a hold on his anger. “Yes, I have. He has decided to search for a suitable family for the girl. However, considering that he thought the Dursleys were suitable, i will be keeping an eye on the options he comes up with.”, She replied.

Severus nodded. The bathroom door creaked open and Heather came out, softly closing the door behind her before looking up. Her eyes widened slightly as her gaze landed on Minerva, but quickly lowered to the ground. She cradled the jar of creamy white salve in her hands and carefully placed it on the counter of Severus’ work table. “Thanks.”, She said quietly. Severus hummed in acknowledgement and gave her a slight nod. Severus didn’t see this girl going into Griffindor, with how timid and quiet she was. She had seemed quite enthusiastic about the library, so perhaps a Ravenclaw.

He cleared his throat, “Ms. Potter, earlier you asked how i know your name, do you truly not know or were you just being difficult?”.

**********

Heather whipped her head up. She had thought that subject had been closed. She should’ve known better than to ask questions, she’d thought. However, now the Professor was offering answers. Or just mocking her, she didn’t really know. Sometimes Uncle Vernon liked to play question games, either to remind her of her place, that she didn't have the right to know what was going on, or just to have something to punish her for. “I..I really don’t know, i’m sorry.”, She forced out.

“Nothing to be sorry for. We were just curious.”, McGonagall said dismissively. “You come from an old family of wizards, The Potters, who descended from the Peverells. Your mother was born from a non-magic family, muggleborn, while your father came from an all-magic family, pure-blood. You are a half-blood.”, Mr. Snape explained. “So… I'm half magic?”, Heather asked. “That’s rather simplified, but yes. Your parents were married young, and you were born soon after. They were part of a rebellion against a bad wizard who wanted to rule over non-magic people, muggles.”, Snape explained.

So my parents weren’t drunks, my mum wasn’t a whore, my dad wasn’t a bastard. “So I take it that my parents didn’t die in a car crash?”, Heather said flatly. “A car crash!?”, McGonagall exclaimed before quieting to angry mutterings. “No. They were not killed in a car crash. They were murdered by the bad wizard, he-who-must-not-be-named.” He said, looking almost guilty for a brief moment before he went blank-faced again. “Why can’t he be named?”, Heather asked. Every villain she’d ever heard of had a name, even the really bad ones, like Hitler, after all people needed someone to curse and cuss at and 'that damned he-who-must-not-be-named', was a bit of a mouthful.

“People are afraid. They think that saying his name is like a curse. At one point he had a trace on his name, so he knew where and who were talking about him, it's a habit by now. Anyhow, he killed your family and also attempted to kill you, but an ancient protection your mother used that was activated and powered by her sacrifice, caused the spell he used to rebound back onto himself, theoretically killing him.”, He said, sounding unconvinced.

'My mum died for me. She had really loved me. I’d always thought that i was alone, that nobody had ever loved me. That all i was worth was some hand-me-down clothes and moldy bread.', she thought bitterly. She swallowed hard, past the lump in her throat. "So that's how you know me. I might've killed this nameless guy?", She asked. "..yes. Everyone has heard of you. At least anyone of our world. You are famous, by no feat of your own.", He said rather pointedly. She understood, she wasn't about to get a big head over this. She nodded.

"Well, it's getting to be rather late, Severus. Heather and I should be having ourselves some supper and going off to bed.", McGonagall said, breaking the awkward silence. Severus nodded and pulled out a tray with circular indents in it. She looked on curiously, only understanding when he placed the healing potions in the indented spots. He pushed the tray towards her. "Be careful with them, they don't do well with being shaken.", He warned. Heather nodded and carefully lifted the small tray.

Heather soon understood why Mr Snape had bothered with the tray. She couldn't even count the number of flights of stairs she and McGonagall had climbed. A little out of breath, they finally reached the familiar painting of the bloke with the sword. McGonagall gave the password and they were let inside. Heather went inside her room and placed the tray on her bedside table.

"I'll get the house elves to bring some food for you, usually we go down to the great hall for meals but I doubt you want to go down all those stairs again. I'll be eating while I work in my study, I hope you don't mind." The witch asked, peering at her through her glasses. "It's no problem.", Heather said with a small smile. Just go already. And what on earth was a house elf? McGonagall nodded and walked away. Heather stared at the potions on her table. They were pretty. Everything she'd seen today was pretty, except for that Mr Filch. She shivered as she remembered his touch, his hands were grimy and she could still feel his bony fingers clutching at her face, covering her mouth. She didn't want to meet him again.

A pop pulled her out of her thoughts. There to her right, was a strange creature with huge eyes and big, floppy ears. It gave her a smile and placed a tray on her lap. "Thanks.", Heather murmured. It's eyes went big, "Ditty is only being a house elf. Mistress Potter should not be saying thanks. Ditty is only too honoured." The house elf, Ditty, said. She bowed low and disappeared. Heather blinked and turned her attention to the food. It was mash, haslet and some green beans. Heather started in on the potatoes.

They were creamy and buttery. She finished them quickly. The beans she could tuck away for later but the Haslet would have to be eaten. She'd once made the meat for Supper and after all her chores, she'd eaten it. Unluckily for her it had gone rotten rather fast and she'd spent the night feeling sick to her stomach. She ate a few bites of the tender meat before feeling full and placed her fork down in defeat.

The meat would go to waste. She scooped the beans into the drawer of her bedside table and left the tray of half-eaten food on top. She opened the gross looking bone-correction potion and downed it. It tasted acrid but Heather had experience forcing herself to eat disgusting things and swallowed it down. The dreamless sleep was sweet and cleaned the sour taste from her mouth. She laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She was tired. She closed the door and flopped onto the bed. It was soft and it almost felt uncomfortably spongey. She was used to her tiny firm mattress under the stairs. The cramped darkness. She pulled one of the huge blankets off the bed and laid it out on the floor.

Today was July 31st. The best day she'd had in a long time. The letter and Hogwarts had consumed her thoughts and her attention had been pulled in every direction today. She realized with a little gasp that she'd forgotten her birthday. Today was her birthday and she'd forgotten it. This was the first year she hadn't gotten a gift of any sort. Usually it was just a song at school or a new ratty shirt, a pair of old socks or something utterly useless like a candy wrapper. Everyone had forgotten her birthday, including her. And yet she'd had the best birthday yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestions for things you want to see happen in this fanfic?


	11. A Stack Of Books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather meets her first Hogwarts student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for me to update.  
> Enjoy!

Heather woke the next morning and found the Professor sitting in an armchair in the main room. McGonagall looked up and her face soured. Heather stilled. What had she done wrong? "I have to apologize, Ms Potter, I'm so very sorry. I didn't realize you didn't have another set of clothes for sleep.”, She paused, an expression of disappointment crossing her face, “I didn't tell you where the lavatory is either! I've been a horrible host. I've just been so busy with class preparations. I have to get a head start if I'm going to have any spare time at all!", The witch exclaimed, standing from her spot. "The bathroom is that door, there. We'll be heading out for your shopping soon, so you may want to tidy up. We'll get you some new clothes then. For now however, I'll shrink a pair of robes for you.", She explained, turning away towards her room. Heather stood for a moment before heading into the bathroom. It was pristine and rather boring overall. Heather was just grateful for the lack of floral wallpaper.

Once Heather had finished her quick cold shower, she dried off and changed into the deep blue robes the professor had left outside the door. Her hair was still a mess and Heather didn't know where to find a brush. She left the bathroom and found McGonagall studying a piece of parchment. The professor looked up and looked to be about to say something when there was a knock on the door. "Enter.", She called. A very old man in a vibrant orange outfit entered the room. He resembled an elderly traffic cone. "Dumbledore, what brings you here? Heather and I were just about to head out.", Ms McGonagall informed him. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat, "Well, about that. There was an incident yesterday in Diagon Alley. Gringotts bank was robbed, it is suspected that Death Eaters are at fault. It would not be safe for Heather to be out and about at this time. I know this is disappointing, but I ask that you postpone your trip until the goblins and aurors have ensured that the alley is safe". Heather's heart sank. She'd been looking forward to that. To buying herself some things. She'd never once had anything new to call her own, and now that she knew her family had money, that she had money, she was eager to buy herself school supplies along with some candies, clothes, perhaps some books and of course, a wand of her very own. Now that she was being put under house arrest, or castle arrest in this case, it seemed as though she'd have to wait, or worse, have someone go shopping in her place. "Of course Albus, I would never do anything to endanger Ms Potter.", McGonagall said with a pointed look in his direction.

"Well, that's... I had best be going. Very nice to see you, Heather, Minerva. I expect to see you both at dinner.", The old guy said before sweeping himself and his eyeball burning outfit out of the room. "So it seems our trip has been cancelled. Was there anything you wished to do?", Ms Minerva asked. "Er.. I would like to brush my hair. Also, I never ended up getting to the library yesterday. Do you think you could escort me?" , Heather asked, her voice coming out as a croak. She cleared her throat. "Yes, of course. Albus will probably be calling the staff meeting soon, I'll escort you on my way down.", Ms Minerva said. The Professor vanished into her room for a moment, returning with a brush. Heather quickly hid in the bathroom and pulled the brush through her hair, ignoring the painful pricks as strands were pulled from her scalp. She couldn’t keep Ms Minerva waiting. 

She was dropped off at the door of the biggest library, she'd ever seen. Shelf after shelf of books about magic. The librarian peeked out from behind some shelves, "Was there something you needed?", She asked, wiping her hands on her skirt and raising her brow. "I was just hoping I could read some of the books…", Heather said hesitantly, hating the way her voice wavered. "Oh, one of those are you? Muggleborn? You better be very careful with my books. There are a few tomes on that far shelf you might be interested in. Basic theory, history summarized, even a few guides to wizarding Britain, though I doubt your type cares enough to learn. Would be wise if you wish to fit in in the slightest", She said pretending to organize the shelves before her but Heather caught her watching her like a hawk through her gleaming spectacles. Heather considered objecting to the witch’s assumptions, but decided against it. She would win over the elderly woman eventually. For now she was going to study until her brain melted. 

She nodded and headed to where the older witch had pointed. She carefully pulled a book from the shelf and flipped through it. A muggle to wizarding dictionary. She also grabbed Modern Magical History, Hogwarts: A History, Nature’s Nobility: A WIzarding Genealogy, and The Noble Sport of Warlocks. She stacked them carefully in her arms and carried them over to a corner table. She set them down softly and let out a sigh. She was quickly immersed in Hogwarts: A History and had finally reached the section on traditional sortings, when the clearing of a throat drew her attention away. 

There stood an older girl, frowning down at her. “Who are you?”, She demanded. “H-heather Potter.”, Heather answered, flushing at the stutter. The girl’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “I’m Alvena Pince. Sixth year, Ravenclaw. Madam Pince’s granddaughter and daughter of Otis and Valley Pince. Half-blood.”, Alvena introduced, holding out her hand for a shake. Heather cautiously took her hand and gave it a single shake. “So, why is the illustrious Heather Potter reading up on the basics of basics?”, She asked, glancing at the titles piled on the table. “I was raised by muggles.”, Heather explained. “Ah. Well everyone has their family shame. My mother happened to be ours, she was a squib born from the Selwyn family line. Of course she was disowned, but giving birth to me, a witch, restored her honour. Of course she’s still a squib so i’m not allowed to see her.”, Alvena said with a small grimace. “What’s a squib?”, Heather found herself asking. A flicker of shock passed over Alvena’s face before she gave a toothy smile. 

“Well, it’s a muggle born to purebloods, usually. It’s an odd birth defect that has been appearing in all the sacred families, though some manage to get rid of the thing before anyone hears. It’s believed to be a result of incestuous histories in the family. Some pureblood families have started purposefully marrying muggleborns and half-bloods to avoid them and even intend to do it every few generations.. You’re quite lucky, there are quite a few purebloods families with heirs your age with the New Blood generation idea, so you’ll likely get a great match. Though I suppose that means the end of the Potter name. Anyhow, while the books you’ve got are a start, I suggest you look into etiquette and pureblood guides. My favourites are Tasteful Traditions, and Divine Decorum for the Dainty. Nothing too archaic but still very helpful with blending in. Household and hygiene charms are also a must for blending with the purebloods”, She suggested with a small smile. Heather mentally noted the titles. Alvena gave a smile, “See you around.”. Heather nodded and went back to reading about hatstalls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave some feedback in the comments. I've been trying some new ideas and i'm not so sure i portrayed them right.


	12. A Little Nook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Filch gets fired, Snape tries not to kill Albus and Heather finds a hiding spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how late this chapter is. My brother passed away last month and Christmas was busy. I'm just glad I had enough motivation to write this. To make up for that, this chapter is 3x the usual size. Hope you enjoy it. 🙂

Severus found himself glaring at the fire burning in his hearth. Moments ago the fire had flared green and allowed the ancient menace, otherwise known as Albus Dumbledore, into his precious potions lab. The sludgy salve in his cauldron has just turned the perfect shade of Aegean blue to add the banana leaves and because of the fashion disaster (the man was wearing a very upsetting combination of bright pink Fuschia and marmalade orange), he had missed the vital moment. He had looked up for only an instant and when he looked back down, the potion was a hickory brown instead of the soft seafoam green it would’ve been if the banana leaves had been included in the brew. An hour of non-stop work down the drain.

Severus fought down the urge to snarl at the man and hurl the cauldron in his direction. Instead, he clutched the edge of his work table hard, his knuckles turning white and glared at the blasted fireplace that had allowed the elderly dunderhead into his lab. “My boy, what on Earth has you riled up so early in the day?”, The utterly oblivious headmaster asked with a bemused smile. Severus seethed. How he wished he could scream at this man and burn all of his horrendous nauseating robes. However, Albus had saved him from Azkaban. He couldn’t afford to lose his employer.

“Oh. You know Albus. The usual”, He forced out. “Ah. Well, buck up Severus. I’m calling a staff meeting now. I expect you to be punctual.”, The irritating man said, with a twinkle in his eye before flooing away.

Severus closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He sighed heavily. He wasn’t ready for a staff meeting. The events themselves were already a huge annoyance, with the inane chattering on about what pets would be allowed, whether they were willing to allow muggle-born children their muggle technology, how the castle should be decorated for holidays, etc, but then to add the fact that this was the year Dumbledore had started in with his schemes, complicated things tenfold.

He huffed a breath and straightened. He had to go to the meeting. He was glad this unexpected meeting had happened during break otherwise he would've had to rearrange his whole day. He tugged on his left sleeve so it was equal to the right then spun on his heel and headed to the meeting.

The staff room was large with a large fireplace and sitting area on one side and a large table on the other. Severus glared at Quirrell as the newly stuttering professor moved to take Severus' usual spot in the corner and resisted a smirk when the man took a spot a seat away from Filch, eying the man nervously. Seeing Filch's filthy face reminded him to mention the man's aggressive behaviour towards Ms Potter.

He sat in his spot, watching as other staff members arrived and felt his unease rise as more people took their seats. It was always a mess when Severus attempted conversation. He planned to leave immediately once the meeting ended, lest he be forced to socialize by Albus or Pomona.

Severus almost smiled when Aurora sat next to him but forced his features to remain neutral. Aurora had no such qualms and gave him a small smile. Trelawney settled herself next to Albus and Minerva. Flitwick sat next to Aurora and Binns floated over to sit beside him. Babbling and Septima came in arguing and sat beside Quirrell without even sparing him a glance. Irma came in with a scowl and Severus could feel her impatience from across the room, she took one look at Trelawney and the empty chair beside her and her scowl deepened. She finally decided to settle into a chair a space away from the muttering madwoman.

Pomona entered the room caked in dirt and Severus prayed she would not sit beside him. He had nothing against the Hufflepuff, but he would prefer to chat after she had herself a shower, or bothered with a cleaning charm. Thankfully the cheerful woman took pity on both him and Quirrell and sat herself between the quivering mess of a man and Filch.

Five seats were left empty. Kettleburn was absent, on his well-earned vacation in the south. The man had lost another finger over the school year and Severus was glad he didn't have to hear the man moan about it any longer. Poppy was still gone and Hooch had yet to come back from her annual school quidditch team reunion. Hagrid and their new DADA teacher were running late.

Finally, after a few minutes of waiting Hagrid came bursting through the door with a familiar short brunette man at his side. "Sorry we're late Professors. Mr Bucket 'ere got stuck in a thorn bush while explorin' the grounds.", Hagrid apologised taking a seat beside Irma, oblivious of the glare he was receiving. Where was the new DADA professor? Bucket was the Muggle Studies professor as of last year and he'd assumed Quirrell was back for his old job and Bucket would be out.

Bucket sat beside him in Kettleburn's regular seat. Albus spoke up, "I suppose an explanation is in order. Usually, we would be receiving an all-new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, however, our former Muggle Studies professor has returned after a year of thrilling adventure to become this year's DADA professor. However, this is not the reason I have called the first staff meeting if the year. Ms Heather Potter's residence was discovered to be unsuitable and she has been staying with Minerva. Unfortunately, Minerva is leaving next week to visit family, so we shall need someone to look after her for the next few weeks. Those of you who are living in the castle and are capable of caring for a child will be needed to watch over her until we can find a suitable home for her. Who is available?".

"W-w-what was u-uns-suitable ab-bout her h-home Headmaster?", Quirrell asked.  
"Nothing you need worry about Quirinus. What's important is we find a better home for the future.", Albus answered.  
Pomona raised her hand with a smile, "I am available Albus.".  
"That may be so my dear woman, but as head of Hufflepuff, your preparations for the school year are already a heavy load. I shan't allow her to distract from your duties for longer than a week", Albus said with a kind smile.  
"Perhaps we can split the time amongst several teachers! I'm free the week after the next!", Flitwick offered excitedly.  
"That is a reasonable solution Filius, thank you.", Albus commended.

"I would love to but I have a very demanding project I've been working on.", Babbling said apologetically. "I have no experience with younger children and you know I can hardly manage myself Albus.", Septima added with a chuckle. "I am a ghost.", Binns declared simply. "There is an important astronomical event happening over the next few weeks but I would be glad to take her the week before school begins.", Aurora called across the table.

"So I can take her this next week, then Filius will take care of her the week after. Sinistra has the last week covered. That leaves a week in the middle.", Pomona announced. "Much as I'd love ter have 'er, I just don't 'ave the room. But I hope you bring 'er over fer a visit Ms Pomona.", Hagrid requested. "Of course Rubeus.", The witch promised.

"So Madam Pince, Quirrell, Bucket, Trelawney, Snape, Filch?", Albus asked. "Excuse me Headmaster, but I hardly think Mr Filch would be a suitable option. He met Ms Potter yesterday and managed to traumatize the girl. In fact, I wouldn't trust him near any of the children. He has assaulted a child on school grounds, surely he must be dismissed.", Severus said with a sneer. He hated how everyone turned to stare at him.

"Argus is this true?", Albus asked. "Well, yes. But I thought she was trespassing, I did.", The man said confidently. "That does not excuse attacking a child! Albus, we cannot have someone violent near children!", Minerva demanded. "Is there any proof of this attack Severus?", Albus asked. "My memories and his. There were bruises but I healed them that evening. There was also the portrait of Professor Hosea Sterling around the corner who saw part of the altercation along with many others who heard her scream.", Severus explained.

"Then there is no choice. Mr Filch, it may have once been allowed to physically punish children however it is against both our current school policy and the law. A report will be made to the Ministry and you will be dismissed from your post. I thank you for your many years of work but cannot condone your attitude towards students. You will be expected to leave Hogwarts within the week.", Albus declared coldly. Filch snatched up his cat and marched out, slamming the door behind him.

"Back to business. Madam Pince, Bucket, Trelawney, Quirrell, and Snape. Who is willing to look after her for a week?", Albus asked. "I already have my hands full with Alvena, Headmaster.", Irma said decisively. "My reading for this month is unlucky, the girl would be in grave danger to stay with me.", Trelawney proclaimed. Severus resisted snorting. The girl would certainly be in danger with Trelawney but not because of a lack of luck or the hand of fate. "I'm afraid I have plans.", Bucket said. And that left himself and Quirrell, who had been acting decently suspicious, overly curious and whom Severus wouldn't trust with a goldfish, nevermind the girl he'd swore to protect. He sighed deeply. He'd regret this surely.

"Headmaster i–", Quirrell started, looking eager.  
"I am free that week, Albus. I will retrieve her from Flitwick on the Saturday if that is acceptable.", Severus interrupted firmly. Quirrell looked like he'd argue for a minute but quelled under a glare. "Then it's settled. I'll let you arrange the finer points amongst yourselves. If there isn't anything else, you are all dismissed.", Albus proclaimed with a triumphant smile.  
Everyone dispersed at that and Severus left to go retry brewing his salve.

**********

Heather had just finished reading Hogwarts: A History and found herself with a throbbing headache. Reading for so long hurt and she found herself wishing for glasses that actually worked. She rubbed her eyes and stood with a groan. She needed a break but decided against leaving the library. That creepy Mr Filch was out there and Heather would do anything to avoid him. So she ventured into the vast maze of shelves. She was searching for a nook. She noted a few hidden spots but they were much too convenient and surrounded by fiction and quidditch books. There would be people constantly disturbing her if she chose those spots.

Finally, she found the perfect place. It was a dead-end, surrounded on three sides by books on extinct, endangered and theorized magical creatures, there was also a shelf of ancient-looking journals in increasingly complicated and confusing languages. Nothing anyone would be overly interested in. It was easy to get to if you were looking but far enough out of the way that she would be left alone. Perfect.

Heather scoured the shelves until she found the books Alvena had recommended. She took them back to her nook and despite her headache, continued reading. By the time Heather looked up from her book she was halfway through it and her stomach was complaining. She wondered what time it was. She stood and stretched then made her way back to the front area of the library. There was no clock. Wizards probably had a magic way of telling time. She sighed. "What's wrong?", Someone asked. Heather whirled to find Alvena sitting in the corner. "I don't know what time it is and I don't have any way to find out.", Heather explained. Alvena looked down at her watch, "6:19, we have 11 minutes until supper. Want to walk with me?". "Yes, thank you.", Heather replied. "Have you read the books I recommended yet?", Alvena asked. "I read Tasteful Traditions. I didn’t know that wizards celebrated solstices and equinoxes more traditionally than Christmas and Yule. The chapter on the traditional birthday festivities was really cool. Do they actually throw parties for a full month after a child is born?”, Heather asked, awed and incredibly curious if her parents had been that happy about her being born.

“Well, any decent wizarding family does. Children are pretty valued nowadays, with the war and the dropping fertility rates in the wizarding world. I’ve been to quite a few birthday balls over the years, I think the most elaborate one was the Malfoy’s. My cousin, Deimos, is pureblood and the heir of the Selwyn line, so I got to tag along when they invited him. It was amazing. It might just be because I was only 5, but they went all out: Ice sculptures, 25 rooms decked out in their traditional family colours, fireworks, all the food you could wish for, and a lot of other stuff. I don’t remember most of it but they went overboard with the celebrations. It’s a bit sad now that I think about it though, with the war going on, only purebloods and dark wizards dared to attend.”, Alvena answered, her grin fading a bit towards the end of her explanation.

‘If she got to go does that mean that Alvena is from a dark family?’, Heather wondered before she decided it didn’t matter. Alvena was nice and knew all sorts of interesting things, and hung out with her even though Heather knew that it wasn’t cool to be friends with a kid five years younger than you.

“We’re here.”, Alvena said, nodding her head at a huge cafeteria. It had five tables, but only the one on the far side was occupied. “We eat at the head table until the term starts. We can probably sit together if you don’t mind sitting near my grandmother. I understand if you don’t want to, Grandmother is a bit harsh at times, but she’s not all bad. She just was raised a certain way.”, Alvena explained with an awkward smile. “I’d love to.”, Heather answered.

Heather sat down between Alvena and a woman with dark skin and pretty green robes. The woman noticed her staring and gave a smile. Heather blushed, she hated it when people caught her staring. “I’m Professor Aurora Sinistra of Astronomy. You’re Heather, right?”, the woman asked, peering at her with warm black eyes. “Yes, ma’am”, Heather confirmed.  
“Has Minerva told you about the plan for the next month?”, Ms Sinistra asked, brushing a strand of silky black hair behind her ear. “No. I haven’t seen Ms Minerva.”, She replied.

“Well, Minerva is going out after this week so you’ll be with Professor Pomona Sprout of Herbology for the week after this one,”, she said, pointing out a jolly-looking witch, who waved over at her, “Then you’ll be with Professor Filius Flitwick of Charms for the following week. She then pointed out a very short man who was talking excitedly with an unfamiliar woman.  
“After that, you’re with Severus, I think you met him, he’s over there.”, She pointed out the man who was in what she could only guess was a very unpleasant conversation with the massive man beside him, if the look on his face meant anything. “Then you’re staying with me for the last week before school begins.”, Sinistra smiled.

Heather committed the information to memory, nodding absently. Dumbledore started to say something but Heather’s brain was hurting from the number of books she’d read and people she’d met today. It hadn’t even been that many people but she felt exhausted suddenly. The man finally finished talking and Heather jumped in shock and stared in amazement as food appeared in piles in front of her. It was more food than she'd ever seen. She bit her lip and glanced nervously at Ms Minerva. Ms Minerva gave her an encouraging nod and she piled her plate with as much as she dared.

She caught Professor Snape staring at her. He was trustworthy, she could already tell. He didn't pity her like Ms Minerva or treat her like she was 5 years old like Dumbledore, and he’d healed her back and agreed to care for her for a week. Though she supposed four other teachers had agreed to do the same. He didn’t bother with sugar-coating everything and talking a lot and Heather appreciated it. She nodded at him with a small smile before diving enthusiastically into her meal. She hummed with every new delicious treat stuffing herself full of food she'd never tried before. In the middle of biting into a piece of particularly juicy meat, a wave of horrible churning nausea hit her like a train.

She suddenly shot to her feet knocking the chair over and drawing the attention of all the teachers at the table. "Are you alright dear?" Professor Sprout asked. Heather did not reply. She took three steps, wobbled and emptied her stomach on the stone floor. Her retching wracked her body so horribly, she was soon on her knees in a puddle of her own vomit. Bile rising in waves and spilling out of her until all that was left was stomach acid. She choked and gasped and coughed and cursed herself for eating so much. Tears came to her eyes and everyone gasped when she slapped herself. Freaks do not cry.

**********

The slap resounded through the room. It pulled Severus out of his shock and he quickly stood. He rushed over and kneeled at the girl's side, wrinkling his nose at the putrid smell. The girl was clearly distressed, her face was flushed, her breathing heavy, cheek swollen and tears swimming in her Jade eyes. He averted his eyes. He slipped a vial of Stomach Soother out of the potions bag he kept on his person and handed it to her. She took it and gulped it down without question. Almost immediately she sighed. "Thank you sir." She said, her voice raspy. Severus himself thought he might be sick from the smell and took the other Stomach Soother before his stomach could decide to follow Ms Potter’s lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave some comments. They make me very happy and I love to read them. I'm a tad insecure about my writing, portraying Snape is especially hard. So if you have any advice or polite criticism or encouragement, I would really appreciate it.


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